Plot Synopsis: Crockett (Don Johnson) and Tubbs (Philip Michael Thomas) head into the Everglades to retrieve the key witness in a major drug case who has gone AWOL after learning that his child has been kidnapped by the toothless hicks henchmen representing the very drug dealer against whom he is set to testify. You know what that means – road trip!

Their "cover" is blown. Get it?

Their “cover” blown immediately upon arrival, Crockett and Tubbs are taken deep into the swamp and left for dead by two “yahoos” (one of whom is the guy with the huge forehead from Mad About You. Thanks, IMDB!). After several hours of aimless wandering and Crockett yammering on about moss and the position of the sun, the men come face to face with a pack of “locals.” While unfamiliar with modern dentistry these folks are no strangers to their second amendment rights. The pair are coerced into returning to the local’s shack, only to discover that this is actually the family of their star witness, who they’ve now located just in time for the big game trial. But before they can click their loafered heels and return home, their City Boy expertise is needed in freeing the witness’s daughter from the same goons who tried to kill Crockett and Tubbs.

I don't know what this is, exactly, but it's one of the reasons I never go into the Everglades.

Outmatched Opponent(s): A handful of well-armed yokels, about 17 or so “Colombians” and a relatively unspoiled primordial ecosystem teeming with deadly reptiles, amphibians and mosquitoes the size of catcher’s mitts. Insert Deliverance joke here.

Best Shoot Down to a Lame Pick-up Line:

“T.G.I.F” – Tubbs, to an attractive court reporter he’s had his eye on throughout the trial.

Style Report: Even when sloshing through the Glades, Crockett and Tubbs manage to look like they could be extras on any Phil Collins music video involving a yacht. Judging from the wardrobe favored by the entirety of the ring of Colombian drug runners, South Americans don’t share the same aversion to (crotch-hugging) white pants worn after Labor Day as their neighbors to the north.

The star of the failed "Miami Vice" spin-off, "The Everglades: Holy Shit, Something Just Brushed Up Against My Leg."

– “Looking to get your sinuses cleaned out?” – Crockett after nearly shooting another cop in the face.

– “Pal” – Crockett’s nasally go-to punctuation mark to an insult (it appears just twice in this episode, but look for it in the future.)

Bonus Awesome Points for:

–Crockett’s braggadocio is fully in play as he reaches out and adjusts a prosecutor’s tie after testifying in a drug case.

–The inclusion of a Glade Runner. For those of you who have never visited So-Fla, this is a Glade Runner:

God bless the U.S.A.

-Crockett constructs a cute, but wholly unnecessary, rendering of the plan of attack, using a child’s doll house and action figures. He uses this to show the “good” drug-smuggling hicks how they’ll free the child from the clutches of the “bad” drug-smuggling hicks under cover of darkness. “So the plan is…we go in from the front and start shooting? I don’t know that you needed to spend 45 minutes adding the Spanish moss to those tiny Cypress trees, but OK, whatever.”

-Two words: foxy boxing.

Series in a Nutshell: Crockett breaks into the heavily guarded Glades shack where the kidnapped mongrel is being held captive. When Crockett finally locates her, a hillbilly is holding a shotgun to her head and threatening to pull the trigger if Crockett doesn’t back off.

“You don’t walk out of here with that child,” Crockett says (understandably not specifying the gender of the goblin-ish youngster.)

After a moment or two of back and forth, Crockett blasts some lead into the man’s forehead, dropping him to the ground and likely splattering brain matter onto the 8-year-old’s overalls.

“It’s OK. I’m a police officer,” Crockett says.

Oh! Well in that case, here’s some more bullets. I think the guy in the next hovel up the stream might be stealing cable.

Important Life Lessons: If you’re a Big City cop with a proclivity for wearing boat shoes sans socks and you need to go deep undercover in the Everglades for a recon mission, you probably don’t want to roll up at the swamp bar in your European sports car with the convertible top down. Those fishing poles and the nondescript Southern drawl aren’t fooling anyone, city boy.

"Hey boys, we're here for the fishing! I hear the bass are really biting this time of year. Who's up for some swamping?"

Rental Rehab review by Tricia

Editor’s note: MacGyver Monday is taking a brief hiatus this week in lieu of Miami Vice Monday. We’ve temporarily swapped out Mac’s smug, goody-goody lecturing for the hedonistic, palm-tree strewn streets of the magic city. Hooray for alliteration! MacGyver Monday will resume at its regularly scheduled time in the very near future. Unless we can find Murder She Wrote on streaming Netflix. Fingers crossed!